The pull of the waves,
Choppy, a little rough
At high tide, deserted expanse of watery sand covered with footprints

Grass blows in the wind
Tufts of dry, crackly seaweed tumbling about

Storm approaches
Lowering clouds hovering above the horizon
Ominously moving in hazy yellow sky

Evening settles, low rumble of thunder mixed with swishing waves
This is how I perceive my life...
With storms passing, who knows what the morrow will bring?